


Paper Thin Lines

by thewinterbeard



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Boys Kissing, Drinking, M/M, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 03:20:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4548318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewinterbeard/pseuds/thewinterbeard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pete and Patrick get a little tipsy and go for a swim. They may or may not kiss, who knows ¯\_(ツ)_/¯</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paper Thin Lines

It's 3am when Patrick takes the last pull on the Jack Daniels bottle he was sharing with Pete. He shakes it until the last drops cascade down his throat and tosses it to the ground. 

"Well, there's that." Pete slurs, sighing as he watches the glass fall to the carpet.

Patrick huffs and looks around their room. The plain beige walls bring him to an agitated silence, boredom striking him. 

"I wanna do something." He declares. He ponders for a moment, then his eyes light up. "There's a pool, right?"

"Yeah, s'probably closed by now, though." Pete tells him.

"So?" Patrick inquires. "We'll be fine. Let's go." He tries to stand and stumbles a bit. He reaches down for Pete's hand and hauls him off the bed. They each grab a towel and make their way out the door. 

They creep down the halls in an attempt to not be heard, but are easily drowned out by their giggles. 8 flights of stairs later and one (thankfully) unlocked door, and they lock themselves in the pool room. The underwater lights illuminate the room a deep shade of blue. They make their way to the edge of the pool and stare down into the icy water. Patrick pulls at the bottom of his shirt and brings it over his head, tossing it to the side. As he's sliding his jeans off, he raises an eyebrow at Pete, who is standing still and watching him. 

"You coming in? Come on!" Patrick's laughs and eyes him, waiting for him to undress. 

"Yeah, alright." Pete stammers out and disposes of his clothes, standing next to Patrick in their boxers. "Jump on three?" Pete asks him.

Patrick grabs his hand and intertwines their fingers. "On three." He smiles. 

They count it out together, "1... 2…" When they hit 3, Pete is the only one to jump. Patrick watches as he dives in, cold droplets coming up to hit Patrick all over his bare skin. He doubles over in laughter as Pete surfaces, propelling his hands through the water to soak Patrick as much as he can. 

"Asshole!" He yells through a smile. "Get in here!" He steadies himself on the edge and reaches out for Patrick's legs before he can run away. He hauls him over his head and Patrick hits the water with a loud crash. He shakes his head like a dog when it emerges from the water, searching for Pete.

"It's on." Patrick declares and swims towards him. Pete laughs and swims away as fast as he can, purposely kicking his feet to block Patrick's vision behind him. They chase him in all directions until he finally catches up, dunking Pete under and pushing on his shoulders for emphasis. Pete splashes him in the face and he swims away, turning from predator to prey in a matter of seconds. 

When Pete catches up to him he tackles him underwater and they wrestle to resurface for breath. "Alright, alright, m'sorry!" Patrick huffs out through laughter. 

"That's what I thought, Lunchbox." Pete replies. 

Patrick falls silent at the old nickname, one he hasn't heard in years. The last time Pete called him it, they were going their separate ways the morning after their last show before the hiatus. They were headed in different directions and Patrick was terrified; scared he was losing Pete forever. Now, the nickname makes him beam because he knows either of them are going anywhere. Pete smiles back at him, that big stupid grin making Patrick's heart flutter the same way it always has for Pete. 

He wades closer to him, slowly exhaling out his nose, smile never fading. Pete tenses for a brief second until he realizes what Patrick is doing and meets him in the middle. He's the first one to close his eyes as Patrick leans into him.

"Maybe in here?" they hear a young man call as he opens the doorway to the pool. Their eyes both widen and Patrick reaches his arm out of the water, scooping their pile of clothes in with them. 

"Against the wall!" He whispers to Pete. He quickly complies and tries to steady his breath, his mind still floating from almost kissing Patrick. 

The hotel attendant walks in the doorway a few steps and they can see his flashlight shining over the wall at the other end of the pool. "George, they're not in here," another voice calls from the hall. "Just a few drunk assholes running around. Probably went back out to the bar. Come on." 

Pete sighs in relief when the flashlight turns off and the door closes once again. They turn around and look at each other, leaving them in a haze of awkward silence. 

"So," Patrick laughs, his voice suddenly small. "I, uh."

"Oh, shut up, Lunchbox." Pete sticks a hand out and places it on the back of his neck. He pulls Patrick closer to him and tilts his head, closing his eyes and connecting their lips fully this time. 

Patrick relaxes into it and brings his hands up to rest on Pete's cheeks. Pete's lips are slightly chapped and all he can smell is the chlorine in the pool, but the kiss still sends shivers down his spine. Pete moves his lips against his slowly. He pulls back and pecks Patrick's lips quick, smiling the butterfly inducing smile once again before they separate. Both their cheeks are bright red and Patrick scratches the back of his neck with his hand, awkwardly staring at the water and biting his lip. Pete's gaze on him never falters. When he goes to speak, Patrick beats him to it.

"No, shut up." He can't tell if the look on his face is anger or embarrassment. He grabs his hand and they climb out of the pool, leaving their clothes floating behind them. Pete's grip on Patrick's hand tightens, as if asking "what are you doing?" but Patrick ignores him. Pete knows Patrick is leading him back to their room, but doesn't know the consequences he faces when they get there. He's sure Patrick will throw a punch as soon as the door is closed behind them. He's married for Christ's sake, why wouldn't he hit him? Why would Pete even initiate something that could fuck all of it up?

He braces for the worst when Patrick is punching in the code to open their door. He pulls him inside and they stare at each other for a moment, Pete never being so confused in his life. 

"Patrick?" Pete questions.

Patrick let's out a shaky breath and knocks him back against the door, gripping Pete's hips and leaning into his ear.

"If I'm going to kiss you, I'm going to do it in here so I can mean it." He whispers, his hot breath ghosting across Pete's skin. 

Pete freezes and his pupils search the corner of his eye, looking to Patrick for some indication of what he was going to do.

When Patrick's wet lips meet with the warm skin of his neck and begin to suck, Pete's eyes roll back and he falls slack against the door, his hand gripping the back of Patrick's head.

~  
fin.


End file.
